How Do You Live Your Own Life?
by stalrua
Summary: "The precedent had been set, but he'd do his best to make a name for himself if only to prove everyone wrong." How do you move past the shadow of a legend? A midquel to "When Do You Start Living?"


This is a companion piece to "When Do You Start Living?" and features a few cameos so go check that one out as well!

Once again, the characters are older in this story than in the games.

Enjoy!

* * *

**How Do You Live Your Own Life?**

_{i go to seek a great perhaps}_

* * *

**Intro – How do you cut your own path?**

The precedent had been set.

Most people still considered the trainer a kid – he was probably only in his early twenties – and they began to call him a child prodigy as he swept through the gym scene, beating leader after leader, before finally taking on the Elite Four themselves. It was rumored that he'd never even lost a battle. He had no idea if that was true, but with his eyes fixed on the live feed of the final battle against the freshly-crowned league champion, watching as the trainer deftly countered move after move, he considered it a definite possibility. There was no doubting the obvious talent.

People in Kanto adored him. Both kids still dreaming of their own pokémon adventures and those trainers currently on their own journey wanted to be like him. But his fame didn't end at the borders of Kanto.

His defeat of Team Rocket had made him a hero.

His defeat of the Elite Four and the Champion had made him a legend.

Seeing Gary Oak's last pokémon fall to the trainer's small electric mouse was both an incredible moment and depressing moment. Incredible, because it wasn't often a person got to see the makings of a legend. Depressing, because everything he would ever do, every move he made on his journey to become the champion, would now be compared to this trainer.

But he was determined.

One day, people would know him.

Not because he was so much like that one trainer all those years ago, but because he was him.

Saying Red was a tough act to follow was the understatement of the century, but he'd do whatever it took to make a name for himself if only to prove everyone wrong.

* * *

**Part I – How do you say goodbye?**

He and Lyra grew up together in New Bark Town. It was the epitome of small-town Johto; a place so tiny and tucked away that sometimes it seemed like the population only consisted of ten people. There was more than that, of course, but still…

Their parents were friends, and since everyone literally knew everyone, they couldn't have avoided hanging out with each other if they'd tried. It was embarrassing, the way his mom would dig out pictures of them from their childhood when he least expected it. She'd throw the photos around to whoever happened to be visiting, and he often thought that they must have spent every moment together because the pictures were endless.

Them in nothing more than diapers, lying in a playpen surrounded by stuffed animals.

Him pushing her on the swing, happy grin on her face as she went high in the air.

Her rollerblading past him while he stood clumsily, arms askew in an attempt to balance.

Them seated around a campfire on the beach making s'mores with a tent nearby.

Her perched high in a tree while he stared up at her from the ground.

His startled expression as he ran from her attempts to spray him with a water gun.

Them sleeping under a tree, bodies curled towards each other.

She'd always been the more outgoing one, pulling him along and forcing him to do things he otherwise wouldn't have. He liked to think that she was the abnormal one – because, honestly, not many people would purposefully antagonize a herd of rhyhorn just to be able to run from the resulting stampede – but truthfully they were both a little different, a little odd. She was a bit too gregarious and he was just a bit too reserved. Perhaps that was why they fit together so well, why they made such good friends.

-x-x-x-

"_Ugh… parents suck."_

_It was the kind of thing that only people with parents could say. Ethan had been raised solely by his mother, his father having died when he was young. He couldn't even remember what the man looked like. Normally, he wouldn't feel like commiserating with her statement, but with only one week left before Lyra's permanent departure, he was inclined to agree._

"_Where are you going, again?"_

_She slouched against the tree in a decidedly uncaring sort of way as she picked apart a leaf that had fallen nearby. Her parents had dropped the bomb a few weeks back, had said that they would be moving at the end of the month. Immediately, she'd shifted from slightly-bullheaded-but-still-respectful Lyra to insistently-rebellious-with-an-attitude Lyra._

"_Mahogany Town." And she groaned the name out, somehow managing to make it sound like it was the absolute worst place on earth to live._

_He thought about the small northern village he'd only seen in pictures. "At least there's a lake." It was a faint attempt to lift her spirits – and his, also – but fell flat when she gave him a scathing look._

"_Well, isn't that great. I can go swimming by myself."_

_Because he wasn't going with her. She was his best friend, someone he'd spent the vast majority of his childhood with, and now she was leaving. Mahogany Town was different, it was new; she'd make friends in no time. Him? He would be stuck here in the same old New Bark Town with the same old New Bark Town people doing the same old New Bark Town things._

_And he'd be alone._

"_You'll meet new people up there."_

_And he'd be alone._

"_You'll make new friends."_

_And he'd be alone._

"_It's not the same, Ethan."_

_Which was true. It wouldn't be the same, not without her there. Technically he wouldn't be alone because there was a boy roughly his age that lived a couple houses down, but they didn't have the same background as Lyra and he had. They'd been able to skip the getting-to-know-each-other phase because they'd known each other for as long as they could remember._

_A thought had just flitted through his mind when she answered it, not so much in what she said but in how she said it._

"_Will you forget me?"_

_Ethan could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Lyra frightened; she was always too tough, too resilient, to experience something so common as fear. However, the whispered words seemed to carry a trace of the emotion that was so rare to be seen from her. It had been obvious how angry she was since she'd first found out about having to move, but he'd never been able to tell if she was also genuinely sad about the thought of leaving him. He would miss her… but would she miss him?_

_It was that hint of fear and sorrow in her voice that confirmed his unspoken question. And she didn't need to say anything else because he knew. That's just the way it was with them, had always been with them._

_They just knew._

"_Don't be silly. I couldn't forget you if I tried."_

_One week later, she held him in a fierce hug that was full of sadness and whispered in his ear – I'll miss you – before running to the moving van. She waved to him out the passenger window and he waved back. His arm stopped moving when the van was out of sight, but his feet didn't start moving until it was dark and his mom called him inside._

* * *

**Part II – Is it worth it to forgive and forget?**

When Lyra moved away, they had initially kept in contact. A phone call here, a letter there; just enough to keep up with what was still going on in each of their lives. She'd tell him about visiting the Lake of Rage and getting lost in the maze of woods, he'd tell her about the unexpectedly strong storm that had blown through and toppled one of their favorite climbing trees. She'd tell him about sneaking away to peek into any icy cave, he'd tell her about how a new couple had moved into town. She'd tell him about spying on the shifty-looking people that visited the local store in town, he'd tell her about how he'd gone on a visit to Mr. Pokémon with Professor Elm.

Her experiences were always far more interesting than his.

Over time, the letters and phone calls grew scarce before finally ceasing altogether. He figured she was off on her own adventures – she'd told him about receiving her first pokémon – and he was planning on starting his own, so he'd let their friendship grow cold and allowed them to drift apart. But he never really gave up hope that he'd come across her in his travels through Johto. It was a relatively big country, but there was always a chance.

-x-x-x-

"_I'll come back by in a few days to pick them up. Thanks, Kurt!"_

_Ethan collected apricorns like some kids collected candy. Kurt was renowned for making a variety of pokéballs out of them and had agreed to make them for Ethan any time he needed after having helped out with the incident at the Slowpoke Well. The pokéballs he made worked well enough, but what made them even better was the fact they were free._

_Exiting the house, he took a moment to grab the newly formed apricorn from the tree nearby, before heading for the edge of town. Having already defeated Whitney in Goldenrod, the next stop on his journey was Ecruteak, a place steeped in history. The town was full of folktales of legendary pokémon and boasted a powerful gym leader. It would no doubt take some extra training and detailed planning before Ethan would be ready to challenge him._

_Lost in his thoughts of how best to tackle Morty and his ghostly team of pokémon, Ethan was completely blindsided by the combined yell and tackle that knocked him to the ground._

_One hand was trapped beneath his body, but his other was free to push against the ground in an attempt to lift his head out of the dirt that covered the path. Dust didn't work nearly as well in his lungs as air. The oxygen helped clear away some of his stunned confusion to the point where he became aware of the arms wrapped tightly around his neck. They weren't aggressive, weren't trying to choke him; they just remained there, almost like a hug. And there was a body pressed against his back, the person's hair falling against his cheek. It was funny the way the person almost smelled like…_

"_Lyra?"_

"_I knew it was you!"_

_She laughed triumphantly and stood up. He took a moment to compose himself, wiping some more dirt from his face, before he also stood to face her._

"_You've changed."_

_Gone were the shorts and t-shirts of the past. Now, she wore a short romper over a fitted top, a floppy hat, and thigh-high socks. Her hair was also different. She used to let it hang down her back in loose waves, but now had it pulled back into matching pigtails that framed a face that had lengthened and matured from the freckled kid he once knew. He also couldn't help but notice the curves that had been noticeably absent in their youth but were now very apparent._

_She gave him a once over, her eyes sliding over his body, before responding in kind. "You've changed, too." He couldn't help but hope it was in a good way. "So… it's been a while."_

_The genuine smile shifted into something a little sadder, a little more nervous, at his silence; she no doubt remembered how she'd been the one to stop returning his calls and letters. How the months without contact had lengthened into years. He could have been angry or indignant, held on to the hurt he'd felt when he thought their friendship was lost, but that wasn't very much like him. Plus, she was here now._

"_Yeah, too long."_

_And then the real smile was back._

_He'd missed that smile._

"_You hungry? I was just getting ready to eat."_

_They returned to her table to catch up on several years of lost time, their conversation drifting from what kinds of pokémon they'd seen and captured to where each of them was headed next. He explained how he was collecting the gym badges with the hopes of challenging the Elite Four and she'd quipped that she'd always known he would go that route. She'd explained how she was also collecting gym badges but that her goal was more to just travel and see the world and he'd commented that that was just like her. They talked for a long time, long enough for the sun to set and them to have to stay one more night in Azalea, and Ethan felt immeasurably happy that evening when he went to bed at the thought of having her back in his life once more._

* * *

**Part III – Is a person a product of their parents or their own thoughts?**

When he was old enough to realize that not all of the other kids in New Bark Town only had one parent, his mom had held him close and started a nightly ritual. Every evening before bed, she'd tell him a story about his dad. How he'd almost run away from home as a teenager; the way they first met; the time he'd almost capsized a boat while trying to catch a wild magikarp. From those stories, he learned all about the father he never knew.

She stopped telling him stories when he reached that age where boys want nothing more than to just be left alone and not feel like such a kid anymore. Sometimes he missed it, but the pressure to grow up overpowered his desire to hear – just one more time, please? – how his father had been the one to suggest naming him Ethan as he lay dying in the hospital bed.

His father had been a good man.

The cancer had been the bad stroke of fate.

Stories weren't always the same. Sometimes, the characters triumphed with good conquering evil; sometimes, they failed and walked away with nothing more than a lesson learned. They didn't always have happy endings. There was something that could be counted on in every story, though.

There was always a hero. There was always a villain.

-x-x-x-

_Their surroundings were dismal; the charred rubble of the Burned Tower was stirred up with every movement, causing the dust to settle on their clothes. Silver frowned at the fainted pokémon that had collapsed on the ground before glancing at the trainer that stood opposite him. A smudge of soot remained on his forehead from when he'd grabbed the brim of his hat to turn it backwards at Silver's challenge and the knees of his pants were dusty from when he'd been forced to either fall to the ground of be hit by a well-aimed spray of water from Croconaw, but the guy still managed to look impressive as hell._

_Ethan… that was what they called him._

_His rival._

_He recalled Magnemite, the pokéball clicking faintly as it sealed the fallen creature inside. A quilava loped cheerfully through the debris and butted his head against Ethan's leg. When the trainer broke their silent staring match to reach down and pet the pokémon, Silver glared sullenly at the pokéball clenched in his fist. What was he missing? He'd caught the strongest pokémon he'd come across and had created a balanced team that covered its weaknesses._

_So why couldn't he win?_

"_You're getting a lot better, Silver. You just need to care more about your team. They'll fight a lot harder for you if they knew you appreciated them."_

_The trainer was a constant pain in Silver's ass. Always winning his battles. Always hugging and caring for his pokémon. Always telling Silver how he might win more often if he actually loved his pokémon and believed in them. It was nauseating. Pokémon were nothing more than a means to an end. There had to be something else he was missing._

_The memory of a dark-suited figure walking away from him floated through his mind. He'd told Silver he was going into hiding after being defeated and Silver had called him a weak coward, had taunted the man with the fact he'd been beaten by a kid. The tree had left his knuckles broken and bleeding after the angry punches, and while it stung, it didn't sting nearly as badly as the anger he felt for his father. The man had been a tyrant and Silver refused to be anything like him._

_He had to be stronger._

"_I won't stop until I beat you."_

_Silver had pushed a boy to the ground outside the pokémon professor's lab many years ago when the kid had happened across him spying. Back then, he'd taken notice of the slight sheen in the boy's eyes after the fall and had instantly pegged him for a weakling. The trainer that stood in front of him now was no longer the same reserved and quiet boy that had silently taken Silver's abuse. That person was gone, had been replaced by someone filled with a fierce determination and confidence._

"_Then I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other."_

* * *

**Part IV – How do you recover a missed opportunity?**

After reconnecting, he and Lyra made it a point to get together occasionally to catch up. Really, he wanted to see her more often, but they were both busy. Between travelling and training and challenging the gyms, there wasn't very much free time to be had.

One particular evening, he'd walked her home after dinner. They'd been standing outside her hotel room making small talk for some time, but he never found the strength to bring the conversation to a close and excuse himself for the night. Just one more question; just one more comment; just one more moment to stare at her.

She'd been on his mind since their reunion in Azalea. The memory of her overjoyed smile and the way her lips felt against his cheek when they'd said goodbye had haunted him on more than one occasion. So they'd stood there, and he'd watched her fiddle with her keys and glance up at him in what seemed like a seductive, inviting way.

God, how he'd wanted to kiss her.

The silence had welled up around them, and he'd imagined what it would be like to take her face in his hands and kiss her, what it would feel like to push her against the door and press his body into hers. Would the skin at her waist be just as soft and smooth as that of her arms? Would he be able to taste the cherry blossoms she always smelled like when his tongue tangled with hers? Would she growl out his name in passion or would she surprise him by breathlessly sighing it? Would he feel the sting of her fingernails in his back when he took her? Would it be the sound of her pleasured climax or the feel of her body to send him over the edge?

Her gaze seemed so alluring, so wanting, but he hadn't been sure if he was just imagining it or not so he'd never kissed her.

Looking back, he should have made a move when he had the chance.

-x-x-x-

_It was a busy day in Goldenrod so there were lots of people in the streets, but the floppy hat was unmistakable. He knew the head and body it belonged to, even if said head and body was still out of sight, blocked by the crowd. When Lyra finally came into view, he raised his hand to wave her down, already forming an excuse of her owing him a lunch. He'd paid for the last two in a row – they always took turns paying for meals – even though he didn't mind; he'd gladly pay for all of their meals, but she was always so adamant about trading off. He was just about to call out to her when he froze, his hand dropping heavily to the table._

_She was with somebody._

_And by with, he meant _with_._

_And by somebody, he meant _a certain brash, thieving, red-headed, rival trainer_._

_She was pressed against Silver's side with her arm around his waist and an easy smile on her lips. He was holding a cigarette to his mouth with one hand while the other rested across her shoulders. It was strange how everyone else on the street seemed to fade into nothing as he stared at the pair._

_When had the two of them met, much less started seeing each other?_

_They looked so casual – hell, everyone on the street looked so casual – but Ethan's body was reacting to the sight of them together in an unquestionably not-casual way. His heart was beating fast and his fingernails were digging little crescents into his palms and his blood seemed to run a little too hot in his veins. In all of their times together, in all of their conversations, Lyra hadn't once mentioned knowing Silver._

_And then she was smiling up at him playfully and snatching the cigarette from his fingers._

_And then she was wrapping her lips around the butt and taking a deep drag from it while cocking an eyebrow at him._

_And then he was pulling her into the nearby alleyway and pressing her against the brick wall partially hidden by a stack of boxes._

_And then he was running his hands down her sides and kissing her roughly._

_And Ethan felt wrong for watching but he couldn't look away. He sat there and observed as his rival touched and kissed Lyra in a way that he had only dreamed of. Angry and frustrated, he slammed some money onto the table and stalked off, leaving the couple behind in the alley._

_In a way it was funny – his rival couldn't beat him in a pokémon battle, but he'd managed to unknowingly beat him in another way that stung just as much._

* * *

**Part V – Can a person be more than they imagine?**

Team Rocket had returned.

While it was a surprise, it wasn't necessarily unexpected; syndicates like those were typically hard to stifle. The group's actions started in an underground hideout in Mahogany Town where they experimented with the power of radio wave frequencies on pokémon evolution, but eventually expanded to hijacking the Radio Tower in Goldenrod to send out a message to the group's former leader, Giovanni.

Lance had been the one to charge him with handling the infamous faction after they'd successfully handled the Lake of Rage situation. The dragon master had commented on his strength and he had boldly mentioned that the league champion would be on the receiving end of that strength before too long. It wasn't a threat; it was a promise. So with an amiable handshake, they'd parted ways.

The grunts in Goldenrod turned out to be a joke. He fought through them until a more stealthy approach had to be taken, but had been ousted by Silver before he could make much use of the disguise.

-x-x-x-

_He'd heard the messages being played over every radio in Johto._

"_Giovanni – if you're listening to this, come out of hiding."_

_Team Rocket had been building strength for months, although he'd never taken the time to really do anything about it. There were more important things for him to be doing; things like training his pokémon and getting stronger. He'd flipped off his radio and ignored it for approximately two minutes before switching it back on and listening to their repeated attempts at making contact with the infamous leader. The anger had curled around him, as real and tangible as a snake. He hated the group; hated the way they were cowards._

_Just like his father._

"_Hold it!"_

_A rematch against the man that had so easily beaten him wasn't the only reason he'd come to investigate the situation in Goldenrod, but the thought of defeating the dragon master and shoving his self-righteous words back in his face was too good of an opportunity to pass up. But the dragon master apparently hadn't followed the trouble from Mahogany Town. There was only Ethan._

_The dark-haired trainer had been about to pass through the doorway only to pause at Silver's voice before turning slowly to face him. "I thought you were cutting out and leaving this to me?"_

_He snorted sarcastically. "I only said that so I could follow you. I thought it might lead me to Lance, but he never showed." Reaching into his pocket, Silver withdrew a pokéball. "No matter, you'll suffice."_

_Golbat was quickly zapped by the opposing Ampharos, although Silver managed to recover and take out the electric sheep with a combination of Haunter's mean look and confuse ray. The tides turned again, though when the ghostly pokémon was unable to dodge a bite from Raticate. A particularly strong spark from Magnemite overcame the large rat, but then Ethan followed it up with an equally powerful fire wheel from Typhlosion which effectively incapacitated the part-steel pokémon. Choosing to pit starter against starter, Silver sent out Feraligatr. _

_The fire badger was strong and put up a surprisingly strong fight before Ethan made a mid-battle switch and sent out Espeon. Feraligatr tried to catch the psychic cat in what would have been an extremely effective bite, but the pokémon was too fast and nimbly dodged every attack. Then, with glowing eyes, Espeon emitted a strong psychic attack that wiped out the exhausted water alligator. With only one pokémon remaining, Silver tossed out Sneasel and yelled out orders to attack Typhlosion, who'd returned to the field. He was out of luck, though. Sneasel was fast but delicate, and when the fire attack hit, he'd fallen and had been unable to rise._

_Looking down at the fallen ice weasel, he wanted to punch something. Bad. His hands were clenched into fists that literally shook in anger._

"_I don't understand…" Were the things that Lance guy said true? All that shit about love and trust… were they really the things he was lacking? Was that what was keeping him from winning? Taking a deep breath, he glared at the trainer. "Don't think it's going to end here. Not now. Not because of this."_

_Usually his rival displayed an annoyingly calm attitude, so Silver was surprised when he spoke with such vehemence._

"_You can be such an ass. I don't think I'll ever understand what the hell she sees in you."_

_Lyra had spoken of her past with Ethan on occasion before finding out of the rivalry between the two guys. She'd explained how they'd grown up together, had drifted apart when she moved, only to reconnect a month or two before she'd met Silver in Olivine. He'd never felt intimidated by her friendship with the trainer; instead, he'd considered it an unofficial victory to have claimed her affection. Honestly, he had no idea whether or not Ethan was interested in Lyra, but he would have been a fool not to._

_Silver could honestly say he knew he wasn't a good person; he'd never even attempted to go down the hero's path that Ethan was so obviously made for. The only good thing in his life, his only redeeming quality was Lyra. Or rather, she had been._

"_I doubt if you ask her, she'll tell you anything good. Not anymore, at least."_

_Things had been good between them. They'd travelled from city to city, explored caves, traversed mountainous routes, and surfed the open seas. They'd relaxed in open fields and watched the stars and sat in harbors and watched the storms blow in. They'd explored each other's bodies with a fire that consumed them, teasing and touching and almost sending each other into a frenzy. She was like the wind, stoking the fire within him. _

_He'd been happy with her, or at least the happiest he could ever remember being._

_But his heritage had caught up with him._

_They'd encountered a group of Team Rocket grunts outside Mahogany Town that had pointed out his striking resemblance to the son of their prior leader, and he'd started to consider if he could ever outrun his past. Getting stronger meant nothing if he would remain shackled to his father's legacy. Lyra hadn't cared when he told her. She'd told him he was nothing like his father, but he wasn't sure that was true._

"_What are you talking about?"_

_He thought of the way she looked the first time he'd seen her. Sitting on the dock with her toes dangling in the water, the ridiculous hat tossed to the side, and a smudge of sunscreen on her forehead. He'd been getting ready to travel to Cianwood when she'd stared up at him from behind a pair of dark sunglasses and asked what he was doing later. She always had been bold._

_Their relationship had started with a bang and had ended with a bang._

"_We broke up."_

"_You mean you left her."_

_He sighed at the accusation, trying to ignore the memory of her tear-filled eyes. "She deserves better than me."_

"_You could be better. You could be what she needs."_

_But he wasn't._

_Silver often tried to convince himself that he just wasn't able to be good, but it was probably more like it just scared him to be good._

* * *

**Part VI – Is there such a thing as right and wrong?**

What made a good man? He'd never quite understood.

Was a good man someone who always did the right thing? Told the truth? Someone that was always there for his family? Friends? Companions? Someone that always upheld proper morals? Was loyal? Caring? Loving? Kind?

What if telling the truth hurt a loved one?

What if loyalty to a friend clashed with doing the right thing?

What if consoling someone you cared about meant not doing what was necessarily considered proper?

The closer he looked at the line between what was right and what was wrong, the more blurry and indistinct they appeared.

He'd done many good things in his life, but he wasn't perfect by any means. He'd lied before, but then again, all kids lie. He'd also cheated; it was only at board games and the occasional test in school, but still. He'd slept with girls with no intention of ever seeing them again.

In the end, he didn't know if he was a good man, but he liked to think he was more a good man than bad.

-x-x-x-

"_Can I see you?"_

_He knew what the phone call was about. The pain in her voice was a tangible thing. It ripped at his heart, called to him, and he couldn't help but answer. It was late, but he managed to convince Skarmory to make the flight; the steel bird had always seemed to like Lyra._

_Red eyes greeted him when he arrived at her hotel room, but she wasn't crying anymore. "Do you want to talk about it?" She didn't even ask how he knew, just shook her head no as she stared at the crumpled tissue in her hand._

_They sat on the bed in silence for a while, the only sound being an occasional sniffle. _

"_I'm so sorry, Lyra. You don't deserve this; not at all. You're the most incredible person I know and no one in their right mind would ever let you go. He was an idiot for walking away. God, it kills me to see you so sad…"_

_His words were painfully true, things bordering closely on his unspoken feelings for her. And they distracted him. Caught up in trying to think of the right things to say and the right way to say them without sounding like too much of an idiot or scaring her by giving too much of his own feelings away, he didn't even pay attention to the way she looked up at him. By the time he noticed her expression, it was too late._

_Because then she was in his arms with her lips pressed firmly to his._

_His mind felt like it literally stopped. Nothing mattered. The rest of the world could go up in flames and he wouldn't care because nothing mattered except that she was kissing him. It felt too good to be real. They were kissing… he was _finally_ kissing her._

_The Lyra he knew was never shy or cautious. Instead, she was bold and daring and adventurous, always doing first and thinking about it later. So when she shifted to straddle him, he almost wasn't surprised – almost being the key word because she felt so wondrously perfect against him that it made it hard to think. His hands were grasping her waist and she was kissing him deeply and the way their bodies were touching so intimately was surely going to drive him crazy._

_Everything was so right._

_Everything was so wrong._

_Tasting the saltiness on her lips, he pulled away. Tears shone in her eyes, magnified the flecks of brown in the green backdrop, as she stared at him in almost-desperation, reading his hesitation. "Please…" The plaintive tone worked better than anything at breaking down his walls of resistance. "I need to forget about him. Please help me to forget."_

_He knew what she was asking, what she wanted. Their close proximity, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she fingered the edges of his jacket, how her eyes drifted down to his mouth as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. It was a struggle to speak the logic of his mind instead of act on the needs of his body._

"_Lyra, this isn't right…" And his voice sounded weak even to him._

"_But is it wrong? Ethan, we've known each other our whole lives. I trust you more than anyone else. I trust you to help put me back together."_

_Her hands crept up to bury in his hair and pull him towards her, their lips coming together again. Softer this time, but no less insistent. She worked at him, moving over him and against him. Pressing and teasing and promising that it would all be good, that everything would be ok, if he just gave in._

_And he always had been powerless to resist her._

_He reached up, his hand tangling in her hair as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, only to drop seconds later, wrapping around her waist to hold her steady as he flipped them and settled over her. Her breathy gasp ignited a fire within him and he claimed her lips once more, grinding his hips against hers almost reflexively. It felt so good – she felt so good. Her blunt fingernails dug into his back, clawed at his shirt, pulled it over his head; and the rest of their clothes were divested so quickly he wasn't sure who had removed what._

_Then he was staring down at her and thrusting into her and panting heavily with her and…_

_It was exactly what he'd always wanted – to see her desiring him, wanting him, needing him; moving with him and raising her hips to his; crying out his name in a keening, pleading cry; holding him close as they rode out their orgasms – but the circumstances were all wrong._

_Still, he'd settle for what she offered._

_For now._

* * *

**Part VII – Where is the balance?**

The first time he ever drank, it had been out of necessity. Or at least that's what he'd told himself after seeing Lyra with the red-headed trainer for the first time. The sight of them together had made his stomach twist and his heart clench, so he'd gone to the seediest bar he could find, planted himself in a dark corner, and ordered drink after drink until the room had spun dizzyingly before him and he'd forgotten all about Lyra and Silver and he'd noticed the pretty girl that sat at the bar. That was the first night he ever had a one-night stand.

The morning after the first time he ever drank, he swore he'd never do it again. Nothing could be so bad that it would force him to experience the excruciating pounding of his head, the cottony feeling in his mouth, or the weakness of his limbs. The girl had left early in the morning, but he'd stayed in bed all the following day trying to recuperate. What made everything just that much was worse was the fact that the alcohol hadn't chased away the vision of Lyra and Silver for good, it had only been for that night. So now he was forced to relive seeing them together in addition to feeling like shit.

Over time, he adjusted his statement from 'he'd never drink again' to 'he'd never get that drunk again.'

But he did.

-x-x-x-

_He'd done everything right. All of his training and planning and battling had been perfect, flawless. Win after win; he hadn't experienced a loss yet. It was exactly the type of progress he wanted, but it was also the thing that bothered him most because all of his success only reminded people of how Red had already done the same thing._

_So, really, the people only knew of him; they still didn't know him._

_And it was fucking frustrating._

_With that frustration chipping away at him, he'd decided to come to this bar for one reason and one reason only – to get shit-faced drunk._

"_You look far too gloomy for someone that has six empty shot glasses in front of him."_

_Almost in a daze, Ethan turned his head in the direction of the voice to see a girl standing at his table. Only she wasn't a girl, she was a woman. A few years older than him… mid-twenties or so. She was breathtakingly gorgeous with her sleeveless tank, short skirt, long legs, brown hair, and kind smile._

_He blinked and one of the shot glasses was at her nose as she took a small whiff. "Whiskey. Yikes." Yes, six shots of straight whiskey that had burned away both the feeling in his head and his heart. "Mind if I?" She motioned to the empty chair opposite him and he waved his hand in consent._

_Relaxing into the seat, she crossed her legs and waved the bartender over to order a drink. While she ordered, he took a moment to stare at her, only looking away when she caught his eye. They sat in silence until the bartender returned with some pink concoction that she immediately took a sip of._

"_So what's got you so worked up that you're drowning your sorrows in whiskey of all things?"_

_Everything – that's what had been worked up. "That's kind of a personal question for two people that have just met, don't you think?"_

_Her lips twitched in a faint smile. "I always found it to be much easier to talk about my problems to a complete stranger that I'll never see again than someone I actually know."_

_And it was that kind of attitude that briefly had him considering the possibility of a one-night stand before he shook the thought away. As frustrating as the situation with Lyra was, he could never betray the thought of her. To her, they were probably nothing more than friends with benefits. To him, they were more and she just hadn't realized it yet. No, he couldn't sleep with this woman because he was in it for the long haul with Lyra._

_So instead, he surprised himself by talking._

"_I'm collecting the gym badges." Which really explained nothing, but she nodded as though it did._

"_And you're wanting to eventually challenge the Elite Four."_

"_Yes. But there's more than that." Another wave to the bartender; another shot headed his way so he could have this conversation. "I want to be the league champion but I also want…"_

_He trailed off but she picked up his unfinished sentence. "You also want to be known."_

_One word, five letters. She had him pegged._

_The knowing look in her eyes made him shift uncomfortable and lower his eyes to the row of shot glasses in front of him. "But I need to get stronger. All my life, I've wanted to be recognized as not just the league champion, but also the world's strongest pokémon trainer. But at the same time, I want to be recognized for being me. I want people to know my name and I won't stop until they do."_

_It felt good to voice the thoughts he'd kept to himself for so many years. For someone he just met, he found her to be unusually easy to talk to. It could have just been the way she reminded him of another brown-haired trainer with a kind smile. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was lowering his inhibitions. _

_The silence rose up around them, and when he looked up, his eyes instantly met hers. She hadn't moved, was still leaning back in the chair, but her eyes were calculating. It was like she was studying him, trying to figure him out._

"_What?"_

"_Nothing." And her eyes shifted to stare out into the bar. A snorted laugh forced its way out, but she continued before he could refute her statement. "It's just… you remind me so much of him."_

_He reminded her of him – whoever he was._

_Him._

_And Ethan though how there were entirely too many 'him's' in his life. Too many other men he was constantly being compared to._

"_You're so focused, so dedicated."_

"_Well, I know what I want."_

_She nodded, her finger tracing the rim of the glass. "But what will you do when you finally get it?"_

_Ethan's brow furrowed in a small frown. It was not the type of comment he wanted to hear. There was too much frustration in his mind and too much whiskey in his body for him to entertain questions about his life motives right now._

"_What do you know, anyway? You don't know anything about me."_

"_It doesn't take much to figure you out. You want to be a great trainer, a champion, a pokémon master. And that's great, but don't get so caught up in your goals and dreams that you forget to live. You only get one chance at life and then it's gone. There's no going back, no redo's. Once it's gone, it's gone."_

_Since the first time he'd seen a pokémon battle, he'd known he wanted to be a trainer. And from the moment he'd seen Red's infamous championship battle, he'd known he wanted to be a master. What was he without his goals? What was there to his life without something to work towards?_

"_So I should forget what I've worked all this time for?"_

_Shaking her head, she leaned forward. "Not a chance. People need goals; otherwise, we're just wandering about waiting to die. But you still have to make time for the rest of everything. Life is a balance."_

"_So how do I balance everything?"_

_The chair squeaked as she pushed it back and stood up. "You'll figure it out."_

_In that moment – him staring up at her, her looking down at him with a wistful smile – she seemed so much older and wiser, as if far more separated them than just a few years. Would he ever be that way? Would he ever have that kind of confidence and self-awareness?_

"_See you later, Ethan."_

_The words caught him by surprise. Had he mentioned his name during their conversation? The whiskey was clouding his mind and making it hard to remember, but he was almost sure neither of them had introduced themselves. When he blinked and refocused on the bar, she was already walking away, hair swaying with her gait and gleaming in the dim light, but he called out to her across the bar anyway._

"_I don't remember getting your name."_

_She flashed a mischievous smile, the same type that Lyra so often sported. "That would be because I didn't give it."_

* * *

**Part VIII – Do things ever fall into place?**

It had been hard to classify their situation. Friends with benefits? Lovers? Dating? The friendship was still there, the camaraderie from their youth, but she kept him at an arm's distance. He'd never been hurt the way she had, but he understood that she needed time to work past her relationship with Silver, to realize that she could give her heart to someone again, someone that wouldn't hurt her.

But at the same time, it bothered him; that she obviously felt so much for the other trainer yet seemed to feel so little – emotionally – for him.

Being forced to limit his time with her to friendly smiles and friendly conversation and friendly fucks was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to experience.

But time heals all wounds.

-x-x-x-

"_So, I've been thinking."_

_Ethan's fingers ghosted over her bare arm, making her shiver. "A dangerous thing…"_

_The responding smack was more for show than anything, and she could feel his light chuckle through his chest more than she could actually hear it. "We've been seeing each other for about four months now. The other day, I had to turn down a guy that asked me on a date, but I didn't really have a good reason. He wasn't ugly or rude, and I'm not dating anyone… the only thing that held me back was you."_

_Feeling slightly apprehensive, Lyra pulled away from Ethan's body and raised her eyes to his. He had gone very still at her words, and there was a deep look in his eyes as he stared back at her. So contemplative, so profound; a rare person. It had taken her a while, but she'd finally come to realize that Ethan was one of the few people that would always be there for her._

"_I'm sorry?"_

_She smiled faintly. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean, you're really important to me." And then the words were coming out in jutting, unfinished thoughts._

"_You and me… we know each other… we understand each other… and we've been friends forever."_

"_This whole situation has been different… but not bad, right? And I like you… you know, like you like you… and I know you like me… or I hope you do."_

"_It's kind of scary to admit it because getting hurt sucks a lot but… I think it would be good if we… you know… because I think we fit well together."_

"_And then I'd have an actual reason to turn guys down instead of coming up with lame excuses in my mind to justify me saying no… I could just say that I have a boyfriend and be done with it."_

_God, she felt like such an idiot. Rambling on, probably making no sense. And he was still just staring at her, although now she could see the hint of a glimmer in the depth of his eyes._

_And with a small smile, he answered her. "Well, if you need a genuine reason…"_

* * *

**Part IX – Is reaching the top enough?**

Everyone always told him that his life would change when he received his first pokémon, and they'd been right. Professor Elm had handed him the pokéball that opened to reveal a small bundle of fire and fur. He'd looked down at the Cyndaquil – him, as it turned out – while the pokémon blinked steadily back up at him, and he'd known everything would be different from then on.

Everyone always told him that when the time came, he'd know what he'd want to do with his life, and they'd been right. When they'd won their first battle, the fire mouse had scampered across the clearing before jumping into his arms, and as he held the chirping pokémon and looked to the defeated trainer, he'd known that this was what he was meant to do.

-x-x-x-

_Being the league champion wasn't quite what he'd imagined. It wasn't that there was anything inherently wrong with it, there was just far more downtime – not as many trainers made it to challenge him – and far more media attention – the cameras, it seemed, were everywhere – than he'd been expecting. Sometimes it was nice to be recognized and praised, but sometimes all he wanted was peace and quiet._

_In the end, he was Johto's champion, not Kanto's. Each country had a strange sort of pride in recognizing its own champion, and despite the fact that he led the Elite Four and Red hadn't been seen in years, the people of Kanto still sang Red's praises. Even now, when he'd proven himself to be the strongest trainer in the country, he still felt the legendary trainer's shadow hovering over him._

_So he left; returned the title of champion to Lance and went on a journey to collect the Kanto gym badges. He would beat all of them and then challenge the Elite Four again, proving once and for all that he was the strongest trainer, that he was the legend._

_Kanto's gym leaders were tough, stronger than he'd anticipated, but Ethan emerged victorious from gym after gym. Between all of the travelling and training in between gym battles – and a few side errands to capture a trio legendary bird pokémon – it took almost a year for him to near the end of his journey. But now only one remained._

_The gym with no theme._

_Viridian City Gym._

_Lyra had accompanied him for most of his time in Kanto; there was no way she would have allowed him to leave her behind. If the need arose, she'd fly back to Johto to take care of things, but she was with him now. He could feel her supporting presence in the back of the gym as he walked towards his last challenge, hear her cheering whoops as he'd battled the smug gym leader, and see the occasional flash of white as she tossed her floppy hat in the air when his pokémon made a particularly good move._

_The battle was intense. The fact that the gym leader was talented, boasted high-level pokémon, and followed no specific type meant for a rough encounter. And speaking of the trainer… there was something about the man – the way he moved, his voice, his appearance – that seemed oddly familiar, but in the heat of the battle, as he ordered his Ampharos to fry the trainer's Pidgeot, Ethan wasn't really able to concentrate too much on it. It wasn't until the battle was over and he was hugging an ecstatic Lyra with the final gym badge clutched tightly in his fist that he figured it out._

"_Fuck, man, you're tough." The brown-haired man rubbed the back of his neck and gave a reluctant grin. "That was pretty awesome. I haven't had a battle like that since… damn, I guess it hasn't been since Red."_

_Immediately, Ethan released Lyra to turn and stare at the defeated gym leader. "You knew him? Red?"_

_The question earned him an annoyed look and a huffed sigh. "We grew up together. Damn it, no one ever remembers… I was the champion before him. I was the one Red had to beat."_

_That was it. The spiky hair, the green eyes, the cocky swagger – this was the friend of Red and former league champion, Gary Oak._

"_I did the same thing he did, just first. If he hadn't beaten me… and now here I am, leader of my own fucking gym, and I'm still not getting the recognition I deserve. That bastard."_

_Clearly, Ethan wasn't the only one that was bitter from being in Red's shadow._

_He knew some of their story – friends turned rivals turned friends again – and couldn't help but ask. "Do you know where he is?"_

"_Why, you want to battle him?" Gary had thought his statement funny, but the chuckle died off when he realized that that was exactly what Ethan wanted. "Wait, you're not serious?"_

"_You don't think he can do it?" Lyra spat the question out as if she were the one Gary had offended._

"_I didn't say that, kid."_

_Ethan could feel the brunette bristling angrily beside him. "I am _not_ a…"_

"_Leaf said he went to Mt. Silver." Gary had smoothly cut her off. "But that was a couple years ago. Who knows if he's still there."_

_Mt. Silver. It was the dividing line between Kanto and Johto and home to some of the strongest pokémon in either of the lands. He didn't know who Leaf was or how she knew where he'd went, but at least it was a start._

"_Good luck if you're really planning on challenging him. You're gonna need it." Gary appraised him. "Like I said, you're tough – but so is he. Anyways, I'm out of here; you know the way out." Turning on his heel, Gary waved over his shoulder, not even looking back. "Smell ya later!"_

* * *

**Part X – What happens when things don't work out?**

It was in Mt. Moon that he last encountered Silver. The rival trainer had mentioned how he'd thought about the things he'd heard on his journey, things that Lance, Lyra, and he had told him, and had changed since the last time they'd met. He said he was stronger now, in more ways than one.

Then, he'd challenged him to a battle.

It was their closest battle to date, one he'd only narrowly won. Unlike other battles, though, Silver seemed resigned to his loss. He was working on the things that had previously held him back, and it was apparent in the way he battled as well as the way his pokémon battled for him. His team worked harder in their battle that day than he'd ever seen before.

When he told Silver that, the trainer had resorted to his failsafe sneer and ended the almost friendly exchange with a typical Silver-like exclamation that one day he would win and that he'd be training in the Dragon's Den in Blackthorn City until that day. But the comment was no longer filled with the bitter anger and jealousy he'd displayed in the past.

It was nice to have been able to watch the son of Giovanni become his own person over the years.

-x-x-x-

_The people of Kanto and Johto had called for a matchup, each country eager to pitch its own champion against the others. Red hadn't been seen in years and no one knew his whereabouts for certain, but Ethan had taken the pokémon master's childhood friend's suggestion and focused his attention on Mt. Silver. No other place in either country was as intimidating or inhospitable as that mountain, which made it an ideal place to hide out for three years._

_All manner of pokémon called the icy mountain home, most of them having grown to dangerously high levels of power, and he'd been forced to backtrack more than once to the Pokémon Center at the entrance to recover and restock supplies. It took over a month to wind through the various tunnels and caverns and dead ends; a month of lonely isolation and bitter cold._

_Lyra had insisted on coming with him, but he'd refused. This battle, this matchup with Red, was something he needed to do, something he wanted to face alone. She'd been offended at first, assuming he thought she couldn't handle the conditions, but had eventually come to understand that this was an end for him. This journey was him putting to rest the thing that had weighed on his mind since watching Red battle Gary Oak for the league championship title all those years ago. _

_It was the last test._

_He hadn't known quite what to expect, but when he reached the peak of Mt. Silver, Ethan had to take a moment to admire the view._

_Bone-chilling weather aside, he could see the appeal of staying here. High up on the lonely mountain, a person was separated from society, isolated in the white wilderness. Even standing on the edge of the precipice, he couldn't see any lower than the bank of clouds that blocked all sight of the countries that spread from the base of the mountain. It seemed like the only things were the clouds extending outwards, the sun shining brightly on his face, and the falling snow that collected on his eyelashes and made the word literally glimmer. _

_Ethan wasn't able to look away until he heard the snuffling sound of Typhlosion digging. The fire badger often found hidden treasures buried under the leaves of fall or the tall grass of spring and summer and now appeared to have located something beneath the ice and snow. He worked diligently, shoving heaps of snow aside as Ethan approached. A large area of snow that had been piled against one of the cliff's walls had already been cleared, and in that space, he spotted something unexpected – a crude carving of a pikachu. It was a telltale sign of the pokémon master's presence here on Mt. Silver; the electric mouse had been his constant companion._

_Moments later, an insistent grunt from the fire pokémon drew his attention to a door all but hidden in the cliff face. Gary had been right – Red had been on Mt. Silver all these years. Ethan's heart was pounding when he opened the door, but it slowed when he took in the sight._

_By the looks of it, the roughly-carved room had been empty for some time. Not too long seeing how the few packages of food that still sat on the shelves weren't spoiled yet, but long enough to know that the man that had lived here wasn't coming back. Ethan looked around, taking in the small hearth and the crude bed, before exiting the space._

_Nothing remained on Mt. Silver except the howling wind and the falling snow and a vacant home and a weather-worn engraving of a pikachu on the mountainside._

_The place was abandoned._

_Red was gone._

* * *

**Epilogue – When do you realize there's more to life?**

"I don't know… I still think the coffee in Cianwood is better. Nothing is imported or stuck full of preservatives there; they grow their own coffee beans and make it all from scratch. No one can make coffee like that little old lady. What's her name?"

He took a drink and lowered the still-steaming cup. "Carla."

"Yeah, Carla. Such a sweet thing… Did I ever tell you about the time she…"

Ethan listened as Lyra rambled on, telling a story he'd heard a hundred times, but he didn't stop her. He never stopped her. After everything they'd been through, he didn't think he'd ever tire of hearing her voice. So she talked and he listened.

It was getting late, but the streets were still full of people milling about. Men paused at store windows to look at possible gift ideas, women juggled bags as they herded children past stands selling hot chocolate, and lights strung up in the trees and around doorways twinkled merrily in the fading light. It was the holiday season, the crisp bite of the coming winter already beginning to fill the air.

They'd decided to come to Celadon about a week ago. Ever since his return from Mt. Silver, he'd been busy training and maintaining the league – a few challengers made it past the gym leaders, but none had been able to best Ethan. He enjoyed the training, but in time, realized that he didn't have to be tied to the league and had decided to take Lyra on a much deserved vacation. The league could call him if they needed him.

"Maybe later we could go ice skating? I overheard some people talking earlier about how tonight was the first night it'd be open."

"Mmm… I was thinking something more along the lines of a snowball fight." And the way her eyes lit up convinced him that the idea was right up her alley. She never had been able to deny a challenge.

"You're going down, Ethan."

A child's tearful crying cut through the otherwise happy noises of the evening and he automatically looked to the sound. The girl had flopped to the ground and was throwing an impressive tantrum complete with flailing hands and feet, while the mother crouched down and scolded her. His mouth quirked, remembering a time when a six year old Lyra had done something similar, but as the mother picked up the child and slipped through the crowd, his eyes drifted to something that caused the smile to fade and his back to straighten.

When their eyes met, he would have thought time had stopped were it not for the fact that people continued to move, Lyra continued to talk, and his watch continued to tick away the passing seconds. Even still, the world seemed to narrow until it was only them.

He'd changed.

Different clothes, different hat. His face was different, too; the contours a little sharper. He was older now, more man than boy.

But at the same time, he hadn't changed.

Same hair, same gloves. The way he carried himself was the same, too; that air of composure was something a person didn't just lose. His eyes hadn't changed either.

The last time Ethan had seen those eyes, they'd been fierce and focused and full of determination. They'd sparked as he called out orders to a team of pokémon that bested a Pidgeot and an Arcanine, a Rhyhorn and an Alakazam. They'd crinkled at the corners when he'd raised his hand victoriously in the air.

A woman was with the man, her arm looped through his, and they had been walking in Ethan's direction when the man halted, effectively pulling the woman to a stop. Ethan watched as she curiously looked up at her companion, her mouth moving in a question he couldn't hear, but the man didn't respond, his lips molded in a tight line. The woman's head turned; followed the man's gaze and searched through the crowd until she spotted him. When they made eye contact, her face eased into a friendly smile, and when she waved, he noticed a gold band around her finger that hadn't been there the last time.

It was surprising. He hadn't expected to see her again, much less with him.

But it made sense when he thought back on the things she'd said.

Gaze returning to the man, Ethan felt the weight of his past in a way that he hadn't in over a year. And for a moment, he was a boy again, winning his first gym badge only to immediately hear the comparison – _you're so strong; you're just like him_.

So strong so strong so strong, but… just like him.

Just like _him_.

Not like Ethan.

The six pokéballs at his side pressed against his hip as if they were urging him to do the thing he'd waited so long for, and he absentmindedly plucked Typhlosion from the line. It had started with this pokémon and it would end with this pokémon. He rested his elbow on the table, bringing the ball into clear view as he spun it in his hand. And at the obvious implication, Ethan noticed the man's fingers twitch and move ever so slightly towards the string of pokéballs that lined his own belt.

Still a trainer.

Still a champion.

Still a master.

He could have fought, could have stood up and let his pokéball fly, could have finally had the matchup the world wanted, could have finally proven once and for all who was the better trainer, could have finally made his name the one known in conjunction with the word legend.

But he didn't.

Because his name was already known.

He would always be grouped with the original pokémon master because now he, too, was a pokémon master. He'd swept both the Kanto and Johto gym challenge, beaten the Elite Four twice, and vanquished the infamous Team Rocket. People now called him a child prodigy as well.

And who cared if it was 'as well'?

He'd done what he'd set out to do – Ethan had made a name for himself.

So with an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement to the other trainer, he set the pokéball down on the table. A street filled with people stretched between them, but Ethan could still see the small quirk of the man's lips and the returning nod of respect – one pokémon master recognizing another.

And with a small smile of his own, Ethan turned back to Lyra. She had gone silent and was staring at him with an odd expression as her eyes shifted back and forth between his face and the pokéball he'd set on the table.

"Are you ok?" When he didn't answer right away, she glanced over her shoulder in the direction he'd been looking, but there was no one of any interest to see.

The pokémon master and the girl from the bar had disappeared into the crowd. He was still a legend but only in stories. People had forgotten what he looked like, forgotten the details that they'd originally known by heart when he was at the top. Now, he could walk through a crowded street without being noticed. Now, he could simply live.

Eventually, the same would happen to Ethan. Someone new would come along and then he or she would be in the spotlight while he would only be a memory. But the world would still know him. People would still tell stories of the things he'd done. They'd still talk about him and say he was a legend in his own right.

"Yeah, I think I am."

And that was enough for him.

_fin._


End file.
